I shall clutch <br />The wicked congregations <br />With a strangling grippe <br />That shall maketh <br />Their ribs to be sore <br /> <br />And in panted breath <br />Shall they call <br />Upon the mercies of heaven <br />But shall they have no relief <br />Lest the remember the work of my son. <br /> <br />6-20-06<br /><br />~~~ Leaven ~~~<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grippe/
